


Camp-Fire Vignettes (Chapter 1: The Meager)

by GeordieLass



Series: Camp-Fire Vignettes [1]
Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4475192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeordieLass/pseuds/GeordieLass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short-medium length snapshots of what is happening behind the scenes between battles with Ramza & co. This has elements of a novelisation, as it follows the canon story, however, it doesn't just retell it. Instead, it's an exploration of the characters and their relationships, with a little back-story thrown in. Rated General, but does include mild swearing and passing mentions of sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vignette 1 - Lord Dycedarg, Writ Small

**Author's Note:**

> This was first posted on ff.net about a year ago, the introductory note on there is as follows:
> 
>  
> 
> When I recently unearthed my old PSP, specifically to replay this game (for the umpteenth time), as usual I wished that the characters got more development. So I finally got round to trying my hand at it. I'm not going to rehash the battles themselves, and I won't transcribe cut-scenes (though I might occasionally have characters discuss what occurred in a cut-scene). Hopefully, this will allow me to develop the characters and their relationships, though it should also let me flesh things out in new and interesting ways, too. (Fingers crossed!)
> 
> I thought I was coming stupidly late to this party, considering the age of the game, then I mentioned it in passing to a friend who said he had it on his iPhone, so maybe not! (I had no idea about the iOS version, now I'm rather indignant I can't get it on Android.)
> 
> I've called it "Camp-fire Vignettes" because this is snapshots of what is happening behind the scenes between those little dots on the map, often while encamped. However, not all are at a camp-fire, and some will take place on the dots (i.e. in towns), not between them.
> 
> Some of the idiosyncrasies of the play-through that I was doing when I started writing this show up in a minor way – e.g. I decided, on a whim, that all my generics would be girls this time - but the idiosyncrasies aren't of major significance.
> 
> Lastly, I'd really appreciate any constructive criticism/reviews/comments – I appreciate all of them and I always try to ensure I respond individually to each one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Woods on the Edge of Mandalia Plain, 12 Miles from Gariland. Early evening.

Ramza was nominally in charge of the expedition, but he hadn't bothered to give orders about the tasks in camp, he'd left that to Delita. Well he _had_ been named as Ramza's second in command, after all, and he was far better at fine detail than Ramza. The six of them had set up tents, a large one for the four girls, a smaller one for the two boys. Ramza worked alongside the rest - he could be lax about giving orders, but he always tried to pull his weight, otherwise.

"It's a shame Tristan was killed, of course, but since it wasn't permanent, I'm glad that it gave me a chance to join you, after the fact, at least." Hildegarde said to Samantha, as they prepared some trout they had caught in the local stream.

Samantha only made a small noise in response - she was still brooding about the fight they'd got into that morning in Gariland. She'd been acting as team chemist and her lack of ability to use Phoenix Downs had almost proved permanently fatal to her friend, Tristan. If they hadn't managed to get the boy back to the Akademy in time to be Raised, Samantha would have never have forgiven herself – she still hadn't forgiven herself for her lack of foresight. She kept asking herself what had possessed her to concentrate on mastering the use of Antidotes and not something that, used quickly, could _reverse death?_ She vowed to herself that by the time she was next assigned as the team's official chemist she would have mastered the skill.

"What bothers me," Delita said to Ramza, from where he was building their camp-fire, nearby, "is what they were thinking, attacking half-a-dozen armed people in the middle of the city. I know we were ordered to patrol the slums to search for them but, still, they could have run – supposedly the Brigade's people aren't stupid – logically, they should have seen we weren't exactly easy pickings and legged it. Something's off about that."

Ramza gave his friend a look that was half-amused and half-exasperated.

"You always imagine there's intrigue going on, Delita. As you said, we were well dressed and walking through the slums - they probably imagined that we _were_ easy pickings - that the weapons were just for show; lots of court dandies wear a sword without having the first clue how to use it, after all. I imagine it was exactly what the man said - "wee moppets" with brimming purses, so they decided to take the risk. They were brigands, after all, as well as fools, as it turned out."

"You're probably right, I'm just jumpy, with the political situation as it is." Delita said.

"What's the point in us bothering about the politics? We're a bunch of sixteen-year-old cadets - no-one's going to let us play those games. We're just going to be stuck up on the battlements of Eagrose Castle for a few weeks, then we go back to the Akademy. That fight in the back alleys of Garliand is more excitement than we'll ever see once we're home. If you ask me, it's all going to be terribly dull and if anyone is politicking, it's not as though we'll even get to hear about it." Ramza said.

Delita sighed; Ramza frustrated him sometimes.

"You're probably right. But... I know I keep saying it, but you have the family connections to actually make a difference, it's a crime that you aren't more politically-minded."

Ramza rolled his eyes at his friend.

"You're intrigued enough by it for both of us. I'll tell you what. When we're both too old to swing a sword, I'll start dabbling in politics and you can be my éminence grise, sorry, _political advisor_ , much in the way Dycedarg is for the Duke. Only, given that neither of us is particularly important, it will have to be on a rather less ambitious scale."

Both studied strategy, tactics, military and political history, but whereas Delita's bent was definitely political, Ramza dreamt of having the military talents to live up to his family name. With the towering martial reputations of his father and brothers, it was a lot to ask of himself; he hoped fervently that he wouldn't fail... and feared terribly that he would.

"Lord Dycedarg, writ small! Now I have my life's ambition all worked out." Delita muttered.

"What do you mean by that?" Ramza asked.

Although his tone challenged Delita, he was genuinely confused as to exactly what the other boy _could_ mean. His father's will had made Dycedarg guardian to the two Heirals as well as his youngest brother and sister, and while Dycedarg was usually a stern and strict guardian he wasn't usually unreasonable. Ramza had thought that Delita had the same respect for Dycedarg as he had.

"Nothing. I'm not deriding your noble Lord Brother, so don't sound so annoyed. Perhaps I just think that one day I'd like to change my false nobleman's garb for the robes of someone with _real_ power." Delita shook his head hard, as if to clear it.

"Oh, lets forget it, we're out on our own, totally independent for a couple of days until we get to Eagrose. I don't know why we're even getting into a dispute." Delita added.

Always happy to make peace, Ramza got to his feet, raising his voice a little.

"Why don't we all go for a swim – it's warm for the time of year and I noticed a bit of a pool just down from where we caught the fish."

Delita and the girls just looked at him, incredulous.

"Nope." Juliana eventually said in a very definite tone. "I know you tend to be a bit clueless about girls, Ramza, but the four of us are definitely _not_ about to casually strip to our shifts in front of you two and go for a dip."

"You don't know what you're missing." Delita said to her, a wide suggestive smile on his face.

Juliana gave him an assessing look. He wasn't necessarily the better looking of the two boys - that was up for debate - but he was both taller and broader through chest and shoulders. Ramza still had the build of a skinny teenaged boy whereas Delita, though younger by a few months had already begun to fill out, giving him more of a man's frame.

"Maybe if it was just the two of us..." She said with an arch smile, then blushed and ducked her head. The two had been flirting for months - Ramza wasn't sure if they'd ever done more than flirt and Delita was generally rather vague on the subject, when asked.

"Fine, fine." Ramza said, still a little flustered. "Do you four want to swim? If you do, I promise Delita and I will wait and have a swim after you've finished." Most of the girls said they would but Samantha just shook her head without speaking. Ramza gave her a long look, head tilted slightly to one side, then hunkered down next to her, speaking low.

"The important part is that we were still in time to get him revived and you are determined not to let it happen again. Try to stop thinking about it so much, Sam. We make mistakes then we have to move on and make sure that we don't make the same ones again."

It was more than just the Beoulve name that had placed Ramza in charge of this little squad - he had the confidence and many of the innate skills to be a good leader.

"I know you're right, but we were so close to losing him forever - a few more seconds, even..." Samantha shivered.

Ramza put a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder; he could sympathise - their first ever fight involving real deaths, today, had shaken him too.

"But we didn't. Go on. Go for a swim with the others. It'll be fun – help you take your mind off it."

* * *

Ramza dreamed he was back at his father's death-bed that night. It was months since that had happened and he wasn't sure what had prompted it, almost three years after the actual event. He woke in a cold sweat and stumbled out of the tent. Delita should have been on watch, but he was nowhere to be seen. Ramza sat staring into the fire, which was very low. He heard a twig snap behind him, and Delita came up.

"Where have you been?" Ramza asked sharply.

"Collecting more firewood." Delita said, dumping an armload of branches.

"Oh... Sorry." Ramza pushed his mop of hair out of his eyes. "I didn't mean to make it sound like an accusation."

"You were put in charge, you have the right to question your subordinates." Was there a hint of stiffness in Delita's voice? No, surely not; that would be silly, wouldn't it?

"You know it isn't like that - I don't think of you as my 'subordinate'. I'm sorry. I dreamed about my father dying again; I'm just a bit on edge. Look, I won't get back to sleep, so I may as well take over the watch early if you want to get to bed." He'd noticed Delita try to hide a couple of yawns while he'd been speaking.

Delita leaned forward to put another branch on the fire and Ramza heard a hissing noise as if water had fallen to the stones that they had used to bake the trout.

"Is your hair _dripping_?"

"Er... well, yes. I'm sorry... You weren't wrong to question me. Juliana invited me to go for a moonlight swim with her... I know I shouldn't have, not while I was supposed to be on watch, and I apologise."

Ramza just shook his head. He knew he could be a little prudish, but he had been made conscious of his illegitimacy, early in life, and that led him to be rather more conservative about sexual matters than some of his friends. It was a heavy stigma in their society and he was very aware that he never wanted to burden a child with it himself. Especially as he was unlikely to ever have the influence his father had had, which meant he wouldn't have the highly unorthodox option of having papers drawn up to be signed by the king, legitimating his bastard children. Staying chaste was better... if more frustrating.

"Hey don't look at me like that. _She_ asked _me_..." Delita said, sounding defensive, now.

"Don't worry about it." Ramza said, a little stiffly. "Like I said, I can take over the watch now."

He was far closer to Delita than to his own, much older, brothers but, like close siblings, they weren't without their differences.  Ramza thought about that while he watched Delita head for their tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delita doesn't spring Athena-like from Zeus's head, as a consummate political schemer later in the game. I didn't pick up on it during my very first play-through, but in Chapter 1 he always knows more about what's going on in the world, including who the political participants are, than the other cadets, e.g. he knows who all the major players in the Corpse Brigade are, while Ramza's pretty much clueless. Anyway, I hope I didn't lay the "Delita's a political animal" on too thick. I'll try not to be too heavy-handed with it, in future.
> 
> I originally tried to emulate the game's Olde English dialogue... and failed. I want them to sound like intelligent sixteen-year-olds, not crusty sixty-year-olds. So I copped out.


	2. Vignette 2 - Judging Too Harshly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between Mandalia Plain and Eagrose, shortly before full-dark

Delita watched his friend and thought, with some relief, that Ramza had finally reached the end of his tether.

  
"No Argath! No matter how much you argue, we will _not_ be pressing on tonight. I am not travelling in the dark when we could be attacked and never see it coming. We're still about three hours from Eagrose. We'll leave at first light and be there by mid-morning, at worst." Ramza held up a hand, when the other young man made as if to speak again. Ramza, often so self-effacing, suddenly had all the commanding presence that Lord Ramza Beoulve, third son of the Earl of Eagrose was supposed to have. In this case, Delita approved of that, wholeheartedly.

 

"I said _no_! We are not putting ourselves and the rest of the team in jeopardy because _you_ think you can get an army from my brothers, to ride out at your back, this very night. I'll make sure that they listen to what you have to say but I'm sorry to tell you that it will be _they_ that decide how to proceed in this, not _you_. Besides, a few hours, which will hopefully allow us to stay untroubled by bandits and fiendish creatures, will not make much difference. Ten-to-one, Dycedarg will already know all about it when we get there and he, the Duke and Zalbaag will have made plans."

  
Dycedarg's ability to know about _everything_ , very soon after had happened, sometimes seemed uncanny. Delita saw Argath open his mouth again, even as he was wondering for the umpteenth time just how many spies Dycedarg must have, to be able to do that. The stubborn look on Argath's face said this was not going to be acquiescence. Ramza jumped in again – yes he really had lost any semblance of patience with Argath's ridiculous posturing and demands.

  
"No, I have listened to you maunder on about this for nigh-on half an hour, I will _not_ listen to another word!"

  
Ramza stalked off, heading further away from the road and, after a moment, Delita followed him. He found Ramza leaning against a tree, inspecting the silhouette of the toe of one boot in the near-dark, as if it fascinated him.

  
"Was I too harsh?" He asked. Delita shrugged.

  
"No... well perhaps a _little_ ; he's had a hard day, after all. I can't fault you, though - it did have to be said."

  
Delita was just glad that the argument, which had seemed interminable, had finally been ended. He'd have had a lot less patience than Ramza with Argath.

 

"Who does he think he is, telling me what we must and mustn't do for him?" Ramza asked.

 

Delita knew Ramza had spent the last couple of days trying terribly hard to be the perfect Cadet-Captain. Something about the incongruence of that, and the slightly petulant indignation of that last question made him smile. Thinking more about Argath made his smile drop quickly.

 

"There's something not quite... right about him, I admit." Delita said, after a moment's consideration. "He's so _intense_ about everything. I mean, he's ambitious, that's as obvious as the noonday sun and, I'd guess, he's hitched his wagon so tightly to the Marquis that he thinks he has nothing left, if anything happens to the man.

 

"Be careful of him; if he thinks his ambitions can be more easily realised with Beoulve rather than Elmdore help, you'll find him a difficult one to be rid of, I imagine."

  
Delita's voice might be cool, but he had his own ambitions, so he could, sort of, sympathise with Argath. However, his attachment to the Beoulve family was genuine - his affection for its youngest two members was as strong, more or less, as that for his sister; he would never just use them to gain what he wanted... though, if an opportunity presented itself, that Lords Zalbaag or Dycedarg could help him with... so maybe, he wasn't _so_ different from Argath, after all.

  
"I don't necessarily need to be "rid" of him, totally; he was handy in the fight today, after all. I just want him to calm down and back off a bit... Maybe I'm being unfair, maybe he's just very loyal to the Marquis." Ramza himself didn't sound entirely convinced of that.

 

"Perhaps." Delita's voice held no conviction.

 

"But you don't think it's likely do you?" Ramza asked.

 

"No." Delita didn't bother to elaborate, he'd stated his opinion already.

  
The stars were unusually bright that evening, which meant that there was just enough light for Delita to see Ramza's shrug, as he also said:

 

"Then, will you do me a favour and keep an eye on him, please? As you suggest, he may see befriending me as a way to try to gain favour with my brothers. I probably should do as you say and be careful around him."

  
"Of course. And don't worry about that, I would have kept an eye, anyway - there's something about him I just don't trust." Delita couldn't have said what, other than the other boy's over-eagerness, had prompted that reaction in him, but something about Argath just bothered him, niggling away at the back of his mind.

 

"We're being too hasty, I'm sure. We shouldn't judge him like this." Ramza said. Delita tried hard not to roll his eyes.

  
"We're being _realistic_ , Ramza. If we're wrong, then we may find, in time, that we have another friend, one who we misjudged at first. If we're right, then he isn't someone who either of us should _ever_ _fully_ trust. It's only sensible to be a little cautious... Anyway, let's go back."

  
Delita headed for the campfire, where a silence reigned. The other four cadets weren't looking at Argath and the silence was distinctly uncomfortable. Ramza trudged after his friend. He glanced at Argath and thought he could almost see waves of frustration coming off the boy.

  
"I'm sorry for my rudeness before, Argath, but you already lost several comrades today, as I understand it. I won't do _anything_ to increase the risk losing mine."

  
"I... understand... it's just very hard to feel so helpless." Argath replied, in a sullen monotone.

  
"Yes, it must be." Ramza could afford to put a little sympathy into his tone, now the argument had been won, but he didn't feel inclined to give too much.

  
There was none of the cheerfulness of the previous night, which had been rather fun, especially once Samantha had roused herself, a little, from her black mood. Tonight, they set up the tents, lit a fire and had a meagre supper, before splitting watches and retiring almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm failing in my personal goals for this piece. From the start, I couldn't maintain the Olde English - now, I wanted to justify Argath saying "Are we not friends?" to Ramza during the fight with Delita, after Tietra's kidnapped. However, I can't make myself make Ramza (or Delita) like him. Maybe Argath will just have to be a self-deluding idiot about it, instead, or maybe that comment's meant sarcastically.


	3. Vignette 3 - An Evening's Picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beoulve Mansion, Eagrose, early evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game has the team run straight off to Dorter at this point, but I wanted a reason for Ramza and Delita to interact with their sisters for a bit...

"Gods rot him, I don't know if I can tolerate him all the way to Dorter and back!" Ramza said as he opened Delita's door.

That afternoon, after Zalbaag had 'not' given them their assignment, the boys had dashed off. However, the rest of the team had already been given the afternoon off and had headed into Eagrose to explore. It had taken too long to round them up. By the time all seven of them were ready to go, it was already evening. All they could do was double-check that everything was prepared for an immediate departure at first light.

_Again_ Ramza had found himself confronted by Argath demanding that they risk themselves, travelling by night. This time, Ramza had simply told him he wasn't prepared to discuss it. He'd headed to Delita's room, wanting to vent his frustrations. Tietra and Alma were there before him and his clouded face suddenly became sunny.

"So, you two, is it a banquet tonight?" His brother Dycedarg frequently entertained his political allies and 'friendly' rivals.

"No, Dycedarg's up at the main castle with the Duke, and Zalbaag left straight after we saw him, so the four of us are having a picnic." Alma said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Picnic? It started raining a short while ago and besides, it'll be full dark very soon." Ramza said.

"Which is why it's all laid out in the nursery." Tietra said with a sweet smile. " _Please_ , it'll be fun."

"I haven't been up to the nursery since you two moved out a couple of years ago. I suppose it might be fun, at that." Ramza said, returning Tietra's smile.

"And don't worry, I've arranged to have a good dinner served to your friends." Alma said.

"My, my, just fifteen and already the consummate Lady of the House." Ramza said, with a grin, earning himself a glare.

"Well at least _I_ actually bother to think about the practicalities of life." Alma replied, waspishly. Ramza totally ignored her, as only a brother could.

"Since it's the nursery, shall we make it a race then?" He said, grinning at Delita.

Both boys ran out of the room as if the hounds of hell were on their heels, Delita grabbing at Ramza and shoving himself in front as they reached the door.

The two girls watched in bemusement; before they'd hit their teens, racing to get wherever they were going had been a usual pastime for the two boys, but it had been some time since they'd done it and it was a little strange to see what were, to all intents and purposes, two fully-grown men jostling in the doorway like a pair of naughty children.

"Well at least we know they'll never really change." Alma said to Tietra, rolling her eyes. The girls picked up their skirts and followed at a more sedate pace.

* * *

"So... tell me _all_ about school." Delita said in a deceptively casual tone to his sister. He was lounging on the floor and popped the last piece of a venison pasty into his mouth, as he finished speaking. The other three all suddenly realised that what Tietra had said about it, earlier in the day, hadn't fooled her brother.

"What about it? I go, I try to be good at my lessons, I come home, I do my homework." Even to her own ears, Tietra sounded defensive.

Alma glanced, slightly apprehensively, at Ramza from where she sat, perched side-saddle, on the old rocking-chocobo. She and Tietra had planned to have a nice evening with the brothers they saw so seldom - this wasn't part of that plan. Ramza, she knew, would be as keen as she to smooth things over between the other two, if he got that chance.

"And you'd tell me if you weren't happy, _of course_ , wouldn't you?" Even if there was sarcasm in Delita's tone, there was no doubt about the protective brother predominating.

"If there was anything to tell, I would." Tietra said, almost primly.

Delita grunted at that.

"Rubbish! You always did keep your own counsel too much when you were unhappy."

"I'm _not_ unhappy... I'm _not_! I haven't seen you in months, so why are you being so grumpy? I said it's fine, it _is!_ " Tietra said.

Delita glanced at Alma, then subsided when he saw that her glare was even fiercer than Tietra's.

"When did the old instruments get moved up here?" Ramza asked, trying to break the tension between the other pair of siblings. He went over, opened the lid of the clavichord and played a few arpeggios.

"Lord Dycedarg got us a new harpsichord to replace this as well as a full-sized harp." Tietra said, coming over with a grateful smile, placing her hand on the clavichord's case. She was very glad to have a reason to escape her brother's glower.

"So these got relegated to the nursery? Well, I suppose if Dycedarg ever marries again and has children, this time, it would make sense." Dycedarg was so much older than his two half-siblings that he'd been married around the time that Ramza had been born. Unfortunately, he'd been widowed shortly after Alma's birth, eleven months later.

"Even if Dycedarg doesn't, Zalbaag might get married. We could be bridesmaids, Tietra, wouldn't that be lovely?" Alma said, enthusiastically picking up on what Ramza had thought of as a throwaway comment. The boys looked at the girls uncomprehendingly.

"Are either of them even courting a particular woman?" Ramza asked, still perplexed.

"Not that I know of." Alma said. "Why are you looking like that? _You_ brought up our brother marrying, and truth to tell, it's past time that he did; Papa's been dead these three years past. Dycedarg has to have an heir, you know."

"Zalbaag's his heir." Ramza supposed _he_ was also an heir... of sorts. Even after a royal decree, his and Alma's legitimacy was shaky, so it was probably best neither ever thought of themselves as potential heirs. Their distant cousins who, without Ramza, would be second and third in line to the title, would probably fight his ever inheriting.

"Well one of them has to start producing legitimate children soon, for the sake of the succession." Alma said with finality.

"Suppose so." Ramza said, deeply uninterested.

"Try not to sound so fascinated, Brother dear." Alma replied sarcastically.

"Just grin and bear it, Ramza, the girls can't help it, they seem to just be naturally enthralled by the whole idea of love, marriage and babies these days." Delita said, rolling his eyes. "Strictly speaking, though, they have a point. A strong noble house is a one with a secure line of succession. Three unmarried brothers isn't the way of stability for House Beoulve."

"Well I'll arrange my wedding for this summer, shall I? Of course, I don't have a prospective wife, unless Tietra wants to. You _did_ promise to marry me one day, when you were... seven, after all." He grinned at her.

Ramza had been rather taken with the tiny, dark little girl when she and Delita had first come to live with them. Gradually, the novelty had worn off and she's just become like a second sister, more or less. Tietra smiled at him, though she blushed slightly too.

"If it's all right with you, Ramza, I think that may be a promise I'll have to break."

"Since we're reliving our childhood in the nursery tonight, let's go out on the roof and look for shooting stars." Alma said, suddenly, though she glanced between her brother and Tietra.

"It's raining. Difficult to see the stars through clouds." Ramza said.

"Not any more." Alma said.

"The roof will still be wet." Delita put in.

"What happened to you two?" Alma asked, pursing her lips. "You actually sound like _adults_ , and Tietra and I thought neither of you would ever grow up." Ramza ignored that but, throwing up the sash of the nearest window, he stuck his head out.

"Still fairly cloudy, overhead." He said. Alma looked genuinely disappointed. "We'll check again in half an hour." He added because he hated to see her upset, even over the silliest things.

Having let cool air into the room, they poked the fire and settled down to play a few parlour games, forgetting about searching for shooting stars or the earlier bickering.

After what felt like only a few minutes of telling all about what had happened in their lives since they had last seen each other a couple of months before, the boys suddenly realised it was approaching midnight and they were supposed to be leaving at first light. Each hugged his own sister, then the other's, and they went down to their rooms to get what sleep they could.

* * *

Still in the nursery, the two girls seemed almost reluctant to leave the trappings of childhood behind again.

"You shouldn't have lied to him, you know." Alma said quietly.

"You know how Delita is..." Tietra said with a heavy sigh.

"I didn't mean to Delita. I meant that you'd love to keep that promise you made when you were seven." Tietra blushed at that.

"That's rubbish, Alma, and you know it! Besides, even if that were true, I'm only fifteen and Ramza doesn't even think of me like that, and I couldn't marry into your family, even if I wanted to... which I _don't_ , and your brothers would throw fits and, well, it's not like I even _want_ to!" Alma grinned at Tietra's babbling.

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?"

"Oh _shut up,_ Alma! I'm just _tired_... I'm going to bed!"

As Alma watched her friend leave the room, her grin turned into a thoughtful expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What portrayal of the relationships between these four there is, in the game, is a bit too idealised for my taste. They're a group of four teenagers who've been brought up as siblings, so for me, they're close, but they also need to bicker and wind each other up. In short, act like brothers and sisters.
> 
> For information, Dycedarg's brief arranged marriage was very unhappy. There was fault on both sides – it was a good match, socially and politically (she was a second cousin to the King), so Dycedarg went ahead with it, but he didn't really want to be married so young and wasn't particularly attracted to her. She found him cold and felt he made no effort to make the marriage work, hence after a few months of unsuccessfully trying to gain some sign of affection from him she sought consolation with another man. She died, after a brief illness, just a few weeks after their first anniversary, about a month after Dycedarg discovered that she had been unfaithful and that the child she was carrying probably wasn't his. Suspicious fungi appeared on her grave some weeks later...
> 
> That's my take on a small piece of Dycedarg's past, anyway. I couldn't bring any of that into the actual vignette, though, because none of these four know anything about that.
> 
> My very last comment (I promise) - I know that the game calls their home in Eagrose the "Beoulve Manse", but since a "Manse" is the house provided for a Presbyterian Minister by the Church of Scotland, calling it that that bugs me. I lived in Scotland for a number of years, so I'm very aware of what a Manse actually is and it chimed as an odd, dissonant note for me, from the first time I saw it in the game. Hence I decided to call it the "Beoulve Mansion" instead.


	4. Vignette 4 - Argath's Ambitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandalia Plain, early evening

Just before dark, they had been set upon by a group of fiendish red panthers and goblins. Having taken injuries, they'd been forced to set up camp not a hundred yards from where they had fought and Ramza thought he could smell blood as they sat around the fire. Then he realised that, of course, he could and it was his own, which had earlier soaked his sleeve and hadn't yet fully dried.

He was sipping a Potion as he munched on his evening's dried rations, and was watching the gash on his arm gradually close as he did. Observing the rapid healing process when drinking a Potion had always interested him. Delita called it a morbid fascination.

This not his first Potion of the evening, though and he suddenly remembered how he'd got the previous one.

"Argath, thank-you for passing me the Potion in the fight, I think it would have been a Phoenix Down for me, otherwise." He said. He still might not like or fully trust the other boy, but Argath had fought well and he'd helped more than just Ramza with a potion at an opportune moment.

"How did you end up as an apprentice in the Marquis' household, anyway? After what you said about your grandfather, yesterday, it must have been quite an achievement to gain a place in the retinue of your Province's liege lord." Ramza wanted very much for all seven of them to get along, but he didn't know much about Argath at all. Perhaps if he got to know the other boy better he might start to like him a little more. That had proved difficult so far, Argath tended to be rather withdrawn and made no effort to be friendly with the other knights apprentice.

Ramza would, therefore, have expected Argath's answer to be somewhat terse, so he was surprised when Argath actually spent a few minutes explaining how he had become one of Marquis Elmdore's squires. Perhaps he had misjudged Argath, perhaps the other boy was merely shy and only needed a little encouragement to come out of his shell.

"My mother, while she was dying, wrote a letter appealing to her cousins to take me in and help me along in life. They're influential people at the Limberry Court. They agreed to do it only if I would keep a certain... distance between myself and my father.

"My father has spent his life trying to clear my grandfather's name, but the evidence against my grandfather appears incontrovertible... to everyone _except_ my father. His actions have left the name of Thadalfus not only still in disgrace, but an even greater embarrassment to hold; he's seen not only as the son of a traitor but a quixotic fool for his inability to see the truth in front of his face!

"Anyway... my cousins found me a place as a page at the Marquis' court, when I was eleven, and I have worked hard, ever since, to dissociate myself from the stain on my family.

"Only Fovoham and Gallione have Military Akademies, you know. The Lesalian's usually send their children to one or the other, but in Limberry, like Lionel and Zeltennia, we still apprentice ourselves first as a page, then a squire in some more important knight or Noble's household. It was a great privilege to be given a place with the Marquis." Argath paused, sighing morosely.

"If anything happens to him, I lose what little advancement I've gained for myself over the past five years."

It was a story that seemed strange to Ramza; he had always idolised his father, he could not imagine trading a father's love and honour for position and a chance solely for one's own glory. It seemed like an ignoble way to behave and he'd begun to notice just how touchy Argath was about his oh-so-Noble background.

On changing watch around midnight, Delita and Ramza quietly discussed Argath's story. After a few minutes, Delita summed up the discussion:

"It may make me understand him a little better but it doesn't make me like or trust him any more than I did."

Ramza felt that those sentiments accurately reflected his own feelings about Argath and his tale, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that if they've just fought a battle on Mandalia Plain, at this point in the game, Argath wasn't involved, it was just a random one, but since I am loath to get too mired in game-mechanics, I can't think of a realistic reason why he and Delita would really just sit around navel-gazing while the others were being attacked.
> 
> Argath and potions comes about because, if you set "items" to Argath and Delita's second action slot, they do seem to be very efficient at handing them out. To the point where, even if no-one has Auto Potion set as a reaction ability, and you go in with what seems like an excessive amount of potions, you may well have run out of them before the end of the battle, as the two "guests" will often hand them out willy-nilly – they barely seem to do anything else (except kill-steal, of course!) The AI just likes to err on the side of caution, I guess. That isn't a bad trait, it's just a bit expensive, at this point in the game, when you aren't exactly flush with cash.


	5. Vignette 5 - The Farm Boy and the Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just inside the western city gate of Gariland, early evening

"We'll stop at our barracks tonight. I'll speak to the Headmaster and explain about you, Argath. Almost all of the other fourth-years are at Eagrose, so there should be no problem in finding you a bed in the dormitories." Ramza was speaking as they entered the city of Gariland's West Gate. He thought a moment.

"Actually, can you do that, Delita, please? I have that purse that Zalbaag gave me to improve the quality of our kit. He said what the Akademy supplies isn't adequate if we run into anything serious. I thought I'd see if any of the shops are still open. I did get us all better swords and daggers at Eagrose, but the lighter armour, that's made here, is more suited to our needs."

As Ramza stopped speaking he saw that Delita looked reluctant. His voice was unsure as he replied.

"I'll try, but you know how the Headmaster is with me, he refers to me as the "farm boy" even when I'm very obviously within earshot. The gods only know what he calls me when I'm not around!"

"The Headmaster's a prejudiced old man. So what if you're low-born?" Ramza saw Argath turn and study Delita with an indefinable expression.

"Says the boy whose father was the second most important man in Gallione."

"And my mother was every bit as low-born as yours." He lowered his voice. "I wish you'd stop being like this with me. Do I ever make you feel like you are less than me? If I ever have, I'm heartily sorry for it."

"Forget it." Delita's voice was clipped, but he hadn't answered the question, which made Ramza wonder. Did he unconsciously do things that emphasised his and Delita's difference in status?

"Hildegarde... no, hang on... Ophellia, can _you_ take Argath and speak to the Headmaster, please. Delita, since you don't want to be the one to speak to the Head, are you coming with me or going with them?"

Delita sighed, he supposed that at least Ramza had realised he was right about the Headmaster and changed the task to the fellow squire with the highest social rank. It would make things go smoother with the class-conscious Headmaster of the Akademy, that Ophellia, a Viscount's daughter, was the one who would be dealing with this. Even though Hildegarde's family were very wealthy, they held no titles - in fact they were _in trade_. He _hated_ that their world had to be like that!

"I'll come with you; if you really are buying enough kit for everyone, you'll need help to carry it." He said.

The party split up. Delita and Ramza headed down a quiet side street.

" _Do_ I make you feel like I think you are less than me?" Ramza had gripped Delita's shoulder and halted him.

"Not usually, and I know never deliberately, of course. Mostly it's just my tendency to be over-sensitive about the fact that I _am_ a farm boy, just... dressed up in a lordling's trappings." Delita began to turn away, but Ramza's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Delita, you are one of the three people I love most in this world. Much as I respect, even love them, you are far more to me than either of my own brothers. _Promise_ me that if I ever do anything to insult or injure you, you'll tell me immediately." Ramza's voice was intense.

"All right, but no need to get so damned serious about it. I'll tell you from now on when you're being the arrogant young lord, okay?"

"Okay." Ramza grinned and the two young men hugged for a moment.

"I don't do it _that_ often, right?" Ramza's grin didn't fade.

"Never more than half a dozen times in a day." Delita said drily, though with a straight face. Ramza glanced at him, looked away, glanced back, and his smile dropped.

"You mean that! Delita, I..." He didn't know what to say. Delita sighed.

"' _Course_ I don't. Ramza, I just told you to stop being so serious. Now you're being an idiot as well as over-serious!"

"I'm not an _idiot_!" Ramza punched Delita's shoulder.

"Not _all_ the time... Just most of it!" Delita grinned at his friend.

"I'll show you _idiot_!" Ramza grabbed Delita and, with some difficulty, got the taller boy in a headlock. Laughing and trading insults, the two young men progressed down the street, more wrestling than walking. As they reached the more populous areas of Gariland, they broke apart, straightened clothes and wandered along, still grinning broadly.

If any of the Akademy's masters found out that they had been seen scuffling together in public, they would be read a lecture about their immature behaviour bringing disrepute to the school, and they'd both heard that one a few times already. Neither much cared about the masters' opinions, but they also didn't want to have to be bothered with another recitation.

* * *

"Ramza, did you see Argath's face this evening when you said I was low-born?" Delita asked.

It was late and Ramza and Delita were in their beds in their shared room in the barracks. They'd blown their candles out, but it was stiflingly hot for Spring and neither could sleep, so they'd begun to talk in that slightly hushed tone that people use in the dark.

"Yes."

Delita waited for what felt like hours for more of a response.

" _And?_ " He finally burst out.

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed. It was a strange look, certainly, but I was already having difficulty knowing what to make of him, so I decided that I'm not going to borrow trouble. Who knows, maybe it was nothing, maybe he was just constipated, it was that sort of expression!" Ramza said, grinning, unseen.

"Don't make jokes. Don't make light of this sort of prejudice!"

The hurt in Delita's voice made Ramza regret his feeble attempt at humour.

"I don't mean to make light of it, but we aren't absolutely certain that that look meant _anything_. I know you think that I'm privileged and I know nothing of prejudice, but I've occasionally felt it.

"I remember walking into father's study when I was little and Dycedarg saying "and here's one of the bastard half-breed whelps now!" He'd been having a row with father, and I think he assumed I wouldn't know what he was saying. I didn't really, then, but I never forgot the words and the tone, and once I was old enough to know what he meant I've always wondered if he still feels that way, deep down."

Actually, Ramza thought, he tried _not_ to wonder about it. He'd rather just believe that either his brother had been speaking only out of temper, or believe that it was a long time ago and that Dycedarg had changed his mind in the intervening years.

"I'm sorry, as unpleasant as that was, it simply isn't the same. I can become every bit as good a man as you, better than Argath, I'll warrant... or Dycedarg himself, for that matter. I have as much honour, as much bravery, so why does the class I was born into always have to be seen as so damned important?" Delita said.

"I wish we could change that, too. Maybe when we're older..." Ramza said.

"I hope so. I want to live in a world where everyone is treated fairly. Why should that be so hard to achieve?" Delita asked, though he already knew the answer.

They were quiet for a few moments, before Delita went on in a different tone, remembering Ramza's earlier comment:

"Hmm. Why was Dycedarg rowing with your father, to say such things so openly? Do you remember?"

"I don't know, I was very little. We were living at the Mansion, though, which means it was after father married mother, so I must have been at least five.

"Maybe the row was about the legitimation; if Dycedarg opposed it, that would explain why he said what he did." Ramza said.

Delita thought about that. To him that didn't make sense - once Ramza's father had eventually married his mother, it would have been best for the whole family to support the legitimation of their children; it minimised any scandal attached to the Beoulve name.

"One hell of a thing for Dycedarg to say to your father. I never knew they argued like that."

"Usually, when they did, it was about Dycedarg's and father's definition of honour. Dycedarg thought that what he felt was best for House Beoulve should take precedence over father doing what he felt was the right and honourable thing. I don't think they clashed frequently; it's not as if the Beoulve family honour and father's personal honour could have been in opposition _too_ often." Ramza said.

"An interesting one, your eldest brother. I'm sure he'll always do whatever is best for the House - in fact, that goes without saying - but I think he could be terribly ruthless if that was what was needed." Delita said

"I fear so. I also fear that "interesting" is _not_ the word you'd like to use. Perhaps you are right. I honour and respect Dycedarg, but he's hardly been a loving brother to us, has he?"

Delita suddenly began to laugh. His voice, when he spoke was affectionate.

"Oh Ramza, you always say "us", as if Tietra and I really were brother and sister to you and Alma."

"It's the way we grew up isn't it? It just seems right to say it that way." Ramza's voice was matter-of-fact.

"To you, perhaps. I doubt Dycedarg, or even Zalbaag would ever say it."

"I suppose not. Zalbaag's terribly fond of you and Tietra, though." Ramza said.

"Be honest; Zalbaag's terribly fond of _Tietra -_ difficult not to be."

It was dark enough that Ramza couldn't see Delita, but he could hear the smile in his voice and imagine the affectionate look on his face.

"I think he likes me well enough, but I don't think it goes further than that." Delita added.

"Well, since he got home permanently from the war, eighteen months ago, Tietra's been living in the mansion the whole time and you and I have been here, mostly. He's bound to end up fonder of her than you, under those circumstances." Ramza said.

"No need to try to console me, I don't have quite the same level of big-brother-worship that you have for him."

Ramza felt certain that Delita was grinning at him.

"He was the senior General for the whole of the Order's armies by the time he was twenty-five. Difficult not to feel pretty proud of having him for a big brother, in those circumstances." Ramza said.

"And Dycedarg will soon be the main political advisor to the Regent of little King Orinus, if the rumours about King Ondoria not being long for this world are true. You have one hell of a lot to live up to, my friend!" Delita said, a cynical tone to his voice.

"I know it." Ramza sounded dispirited at the thought.

"I was only _joking_. Ramza, you will do well at whatever you choose, I'm certain of it, but you don't have to turn yourself into a copy of one of your brothers to make your mark on the world."

Delita was sorry to have said it; he knew how much the thought that he might never live up to his brothers bothered Ramza.

"Alma keeps saying something similar." Ramza said with a half-laugh.

"Well, listen to her then; your sister's like me, she has both feet on the ground. You and Tietra might enjoy going around with your heads in the clouds, but Alma and I are the practical ones, we see how things have to be." Delita said.

"I _know_ it. That's why I always listen to the pair of you.

"Oh, how did we end up having such a deep and serious conversation? We should both be asleep!" Ramza had heard the distant striking of the clock on the front of the nearby Merchant's Guild. Then he thought he heard Delita sit up in bed.

"I'm still wide awake, I was thinking of going for a walk."

"Want company?" Ramza asked. He didn't think he'd get to sleep straight away, either.

"Y-e-s, but I was thinking of someone prettier. Juliana's room-mate is still at Eagrose, you know."

Delita got up and began to put his clothes back on.

"What, no censorious comments?" Delita asked.

"It's your life, just... don't get her pregnant, okay?" Ramza said, tone neutral.

"It hasn't got _quite_ that far yet, between us, though I'm optimistic for tonight." Delita said cheerfully.

"Yeah, well. Have fun." The last two words didn't exactly sound as if Ramza meant them.

Ten minutes later Ramza was becoming breathless from laughing so hard at a very chastened Delita.

"Sounds like you were _really_ subtle, Delita!" There could be no doubt about the sarcasm oozing from Ramza's voice.

"Yeah, well... so she said that as seduction techniques went, waking a girl from a sound sleep who was exhausted because she'd been marching all day and had marched and fought yesterday, as well, was one that was guaranteed to fail." Delita confided sheepishly.

"She also said that being obvious about the fact that I'd only come to see her because I was feeling randy and wide awake was less than flattering. She told me that if I couldn't sleep she recommended a cup of hot milk and a good book."

Ramza heard Delita's boots hit the floor as he began to undress again.

"And you always tell me _I'm_ the one who's clueless with girls. Tomorrow, it sounds like you'd be better trying your grovelling techniques than your seduction techniques, if you ever want to get back into her good books."

Delita would quite often tease Ramza about his shyness around girls. He had to admit to himself, that being the one to wind Delita up about women, for a change, gave him a certain satisfaction.

"Hmph! Maybe you're right." Delita said morosely.

"And maybe she is - about the warm milk, I mean. Do you want some? I thought I might go down to the kitchens."

"You can be _such_ a big _girl_! Bring me something alcoholic if there's anything in the back of the pantry."

"Oh _yeah_ \- because the cooks are going to leave _that_ around for any of us cadets to sneak in and take! Also, I'm _not_ a big girl - you're just getting childish because you aren't nearly as skilled with women as you like to pretend." Ramza was laughing slightly again.

"And you shouldn't mock someone whose heart could be broken, for all you know." Delita said resentfully.

"Delita, I'm not entirely stupid. Your heart was definitely _not_ the organ that was involved in what you wanted from Juliana tonight. I'm not surprised she threw you out!" He pulled on his breeches under his nightshirt.

"So do you want milk or not?" He asked Delita.

"No. You and your bloody milk!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that there's a fair amount of Ramza/Delita shipping for this game, but that's not the way I'm heading with this, even though Ramza told Delita how much he loves him (hopefully, it was implicit that he was saying that he loves Alma and Tietra just as much). The way I see it, they have all four become unusually close in the years since the death of Delita's parents and that has only intensified with the deaths of Ramza's parents, as well - he was just expressing that.


	6. Vignette 6 - Moogles and Their History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Siedge Weald, 35 miles from Gariland, late evening

The seven sat around a large campfire. It was drizzling slightly and so they kept feeding the fire to ensure it didn't get low enough to fizzle out in the damp. The drizzle was not as unpleasant as it might have been with the heat of the fire to continuously help to dry them.

"Go on then, Delita, you're the one with the fascination for history. Tell us about the moogles that supposedly lived in these parts." Samantha said.

Delita looked blank and Ramza started to laugh.

"Ask him about the murder of some King of Romanda two centuries ago, Sam, and he could tell you all of the manoeuvring that lead to it and the repercussions that were still being felt twenty years later. Don't ask him about something as non-political as _moogles_."

"For your information, you _ignoramus_ , Romanda had a revolution a little over two hundred years ago which led to the formation of a Republic, which lasted for nearly thirty years. They _exiled_ their King, they didn't murder him. When the tide turned back to favour the royal family, the republican system formed the basis..."

Delita's voice was changing from disgruntled to didactic. Ramza let his head fall dramatically to Ophellia's shoulder. Closing his eyes he made exaggerated snoring noises until he was hit on the ear by a stick that Delita threw at him.

"Fine, _be_ as thick as a plank all of your life. I doubt very much that you can tell us anything more than I can about moogles." Delita said.

" _Actually_ , Delita, Father once told me and the girls that a lot of the relics they've uncovered in the last few decades in Goug, and nearby in Lionel Province, are thought to have been built by moogles. He said Goug was probably the moogles' capital. It has an excellent natural harbour, which is why humans built over the moogles' tunnels within a few years of them abandoning it, or becoming extinct, or whatever it was that happened to them – no-one knows for certain." Ramza said.

"Where was I, then, when he was telling the three of you this?" His friend asked indignantly. Ramza gave him a wide grin.

"Take a wild guess. I don't remember, for sure, but I'm betting you were in the stables mucking out, having been naughty, _yet_ _again_." That had been Delita's usual punishment, growing up. There was always plenty to do, with all the chocobos his father had owned - and so Delita had done a _lot_ of mucking out.

"Oh, yes! As if you were such a bloody _angel!_ " Delita said.

"Do you want to benefit from my vast moogle-related knowledge or not?" Ramza's asked, smiling serenely.

"I'm betting that's all you know!" Delita's tone had a bite that Ramza's relaxed teasing didn't.

"What's got you so touchy?" Ramza asked.

Delita rolled his eyes and made an odd "pfft" noise, but gave no other answer. Ramza, across the fire from Juliana, suspected that he was looking straight at Delita's source of touchiness.

"For your information, you moody pain in the neck, I was interested enough to go and look up more information about moogles in the library."

"All right, all right, I apologise to everyone for my mood. Now speak on, oh oracle of wisdom." Delita's voice had warmed up considerably, now the sarcasm was just their usual friendly banter.

"Actually, if you want hard facts there _is_ very little more." Ramza said with a slightly sheepish look. "Lots of speculation, of course. Round here, Sam, the moogles seem to have lived in small rural settlements. Though they do find the occasional bit of technology, what they find mostly seems to be agricultural and domestic in nature.

"With it being warm and marshy, they think that the main crop was probably rice, or maybe something similar that we don't even have, today. It looks as if they lived much as we do in rural areas - apart from their homes being in tunnels underground - small villages and farms and with similar family and domestic arrangements." He trailed off, there was little more that wasn't hugely speculative.

"My nurse used to tell me and my brothers and sisters fairy tales about moogles." Hildegarde said. "They were always full of magic – but totally unlike the magick we have these days."

"Hmm... I do wonder if that might really be the relics. You know how stories change as they are passed down through the generations - if their technology was so much more advanced than ours it could seem more like magic.

"After all, the mythical airships are said to have been designed and built by moogles, and anything that can let people sail through the air as if they were on the seas sounds pretty magical to me. Yet, I heard a rumour that they think they've found airship parts under Goug." Ramza said.

"Do you have any old moogle settlements in Limberry, Argath?" Juliana asked.

Ramza wondered if her very friendly tone was to annoy Delita. He couldn't even remember her addressing the slightly sullen blond boy directly, before now. Argath gave a start, he had been staring into the fire, only half-listening to the conversation.

"Er... I don't know." He gave her a shy smile. "Sorry, history and mythology aren't really my things."

"Ramza, I've got an idea." Delita said brightly. "I'd really like to see some of these relics, why don't you and I and maybe the girls go down to Goug for a few days this summer. By chocobo and boat it should only take three or four days to get there."

"Dycedarg should let _us_ go, but I don't know about the girls. Still it would be nice if the four of us could all go together. Come the Autumn, we should have our commissions and we could end up seeing even less of them than we have been while we've been at the Akademy."

Ramza sighed, he really hoped for his first posting to be near Eagrose, so that he could spend more time, not less, with his family.

"You know, I sometimes _wonder_ about you two and your sisters." Juliana said nastily, glaring at Delita.

Delita blinked and opened his mouth to speak but it was Ophellia, Juliana's closest friend, who headed off the potential explosion from both boys, having quickly picked up on what Juliana was implying.

"Juliana, you're annoyed at Delita for some reason, we've all realised that, but what you just said was going _too_ far. _Especially_ as Ramza, at least, hasn't done a thing to you. And you know that Lady Alma and Tietra were very kind, welcoming us to Eagrose when we were there. I really think you should apologise."

Though she was embarrassed and a little ashamed, Juliana knew that if her friend was pulling her up like this she had gone far too far – had known that without being told, truthfully. So she apologised with good grace to Ramza, and only slightly resentfully to Delita.

The mood of the party gradually became companionable again, until the drizzle turned to rain and everyone but Hildegarde, who was taking first watch, turned in for the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to decide what to do next with the little band, and I ended up checking the the Siedge Wield's description. Moogles, hmm. Well, it was something for them to talk and bicker about.
> 
> Oh, and yes, I am deliberately, if vaguely, in my ham-fisted way, referencing one of Arthur C Clarke's "laws" - the one about sufficiently advanced technology being indistinguishable from magic. Once I realised that the moogles were engineers and scientists in Ivalice's distant past, their tech being sci-fi-ish legends being spoken about as if they were fairy tales became an appealing idea to me.


	7. Vignette 7 - The Pride of Humble Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dorter side of the Siedge Weald, (20 miles out of Dorter), evening

"How will we contact this man your brother planted without raising suspicion?" Argath asked as they sat around discussing today's fight and tomorrow's arrival at their destination.

  
"We really haven't thought this part through, have we?" Ramza said, after looking steadily at the other blond boy with dismay for a few moments.

  
"No, and neither did Zalbaag; he should have thought about the fact that espionage wasn't exactly our forte and warned us we'd need to come up with a plan before leaving Eagrose." Delita said.

  
He couldn't believe they were only a little over half a day from Dorter and only now they were considering this. He'd been an idiot! So had the rest of them, of course, but his unofficial role was always the strategist, the planner, while Ramza was the leader and the on-the-spot tactician. Still, it was never too hard to come up with a plan as long as they didn't over-complicate it.

  
"There's an obvious way – the details we got from Zalbaag's adjutant say that this Frederick is a tall dark man and he's pretending to have been a low-born soldier. I can still sound and act like the farm boy, when it suits, so I could go to his lodgings and pretend to be his young cousin, or something, and ask to speak with him.

  
"I look like a sprig of minor nobility or gentry, though - in these clothes, I'm obviously an Akademician. If we can get me some second hand peasant's garb, on the other hand, it might work, especially as it sounds like my build and colouring are right."

  
Argath muttered something about serfs. Ramza thought it had been something about Delita not needing to pretend to be one which certainly made the plan easier.

  
"Unlike in Limberry and Zeltennia, serfdom was abolished in the rest of Ivalice before any of us were born, Argath. And besides that, Delita's family, just like my mother's, have been freemen for generations, anyway. They weren't villeins, even before serfdom was abolished."

  
"A proud and noble heritage, I'm sure." Argath's words were threaded with contempt. Ramza's voice continued to be calm, though he narrowed his eyes contemptuously at the other youth.

  
"Far from noble, but proud enough, I can assure you. The Heirals and the Lugrias have been tenant farmers on the Beoulve lands as long as anyone can remember. They are, and always have been, hard-working, honest people. Where is the room for shame in being the descendant of good, industrious, honest folk?" Argath shook his head in apparent disbelief. Before anyone else could interject, Ramza spoke again in a casual tone.

  
"Delita, time for you and I to go for a short walk, I think." This was not the first instance where Ramza had "pulled" Delita away from Argath's vicinity and it had always been for a similar reason. The boy was either a true bigot, or for some reason he had taken a dislike to Delita and had worked out a very effective way to bait him.

  
"You keep acting as if I'm about to explode at him, Ramza, whenever he does or says anything like this." Delita said, after about half a minute and they were probably out of hearing range of the others.

  
"You aren't the only one he angers, you know, and besides, weren't you ready to explode? You looked it." Ramza looked at his friend, concerned.

  
"No, he's not worth the effort." Delita's voice was every bit as contemptuous as Argath's had been earlier.

  
"I hope you mean that. You're usually very calm and rational, but when something bothers you, you bottle it up until eventually all hell breaks loose. If that's what is going to happen here, at the very least, keep it in until after we've completed the task Zalbaag set for us." Ramza said.

  
"Yes sir!" Delita gave a mock-salute.

  
"Don't be like that, or I really will make it an order as your Cadet-Captain. I'd really rather just keep it as the request of a friend." Ramza said mildly.

  
"Okay, okay. I won't black either of Argath's eyes or bloody his nose until after we find out what's happened to Zalbaag's spy. I won't promise more. Good enough?"

  
Ramza just sighed and nodded resignedly.

  
"You're naïve, if you think that simple words will change opinions like Argath's, you know." Delita went on.

  
"Maybe," Ramza said, "but how else do you change someone's opinions?"

  
Delita barked a laugh.

  
"Touché, smart-arse, but I just think it will take something more radical to change that lad's prejudices." He said.

  
"You have a point, but since I don't want a full-blown argument with him, the best I can do is offer my own views to counter his. Come on, if you aren't going to explode at him, and I'm not either, we may as well go back. We still have to work out the details of our plan."

  
Hildegard spoke as they re-entered the clearing.

"Ramza, if it's just clothes that we need for Delita to do this, it's no problem, I can sort something out once we get to Dorter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I still can't write Argath as a half-decent person who's just got one major failing – that he's a hell of a snob - instead, he's just a complete arse.  
> I always wondered what happened to their original mission – they were sent to find Zalbaag's spy, yet once they leave Eagrose we never hear of the man again.  
> Of course, at this point, in reality, you have to go wandering about for about 3 weeks of game time just to level up enough to survive the next brutal fight. Dorter seems to be the point where the game laughs at you, makes rude gestures and says "...and you thought this game was easy!" Our little crew are going to bypass that aimless wandering, though - there's a spy to find and a Marquis to rescue.


End file.
